Chuck vs the One Shots
by notmyname0123456789
Summary: A bunch of one shots featuring Chuck and Casey. Different settings, different situations, different seasons of the show, so this isn't spoiler free! Each chapter is a different one shot, lengths will vary. Fluff.
1. Adventures in Babysitting

"I'm, uh, gonna be outta town that day, bud." Devon rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. "You trust me, right Tanner?"

"Yeah, bro, always!" Tanner said into the phone. "Can't you reschedule?"

"That's the thing man, me and El have been planning this for over a month. But her brother, Chuck is available! He's great with kids and I know for a fact that he has an entire week off from his work." Devon quickly jogged out of his house and tested the lock on Chuck and Morgan's apartment. He opened the door and called out Chuck's name. No reply.

"So I can trust this guy? You sure, Dev?"

"Tanner, you don't need to worry, I trust Chuck with my life." Devon walked down the hall and peeked in to Chuck's open door, seeing him coming out of Casey's apartment through the open curtains. "Hey, uh… if it'll settle your nerves, I can make sure he's got back up! Our neighbor is a Marine! If that doesn't say safe and sound, I don't know what does!"

"Thanks man!" Tanner said over the phone, "you're really doing me a solid!" The two men said their goodbyes, and Devon hung up the phone, waving to Chuck as he entered his bedroom through the Morgan door.

"Hey, Devon." Chuck said slowly, "What are you doing in my room?"

"Listen, Chuck," Devon began. "You know me and Ellie have been planning to go away for the weekend for awhile now, right?"

"Yeah," Chuck slung his computer bag off over his head and threw it on the bed along with his pens and pocket protector. "Did you cancel it?"

Devon laughed nervously. "No, no. I, uh, you remember Tanner, right? My old frat brother? He just called and needs a favor from me, but told him I have plans this weekend."

"Devon what are you getting at?"

"To cut to the point, I need you and Casey to babysit for Tanner this weekend." Devon clapped his hands together and smiled. "Okay? Thanks! I owe you one, bro!" He took off down the hallway before Chuck started shouting in protest.

"I hate this."

"The baby or watching of the baby?" Chuck did his best not to smile.

"You know what I mean, you idiot!" He watched as Casey held the gurgling baby girl at arm's length, his giant paws wrapped around her middle. Casey bounced on his feet, jostling the infant slightly. Didn't they like that?

Lucy began to cry.

Her face turned red and her eyes shut as she began to whine loudly. Casey's eyes bugged and he turned to Chuck, shoving the little girl at him. "Take it!"

"She's not an 'it', Casey! She's a little human being, like you and me." Chuck backed up and held his hands in front of him. "You need to learn how to do this on your own, Big Guy."

Casey lifted the baby onto one of his large shoulders and began to non-to-gently pat her on the back. She wailed louder. "Don't make me beg you, Bartowski." He spat through his teeth, "Take the kid."

Chuck's brow furrowed as he gently swept the baby from Casey and began to talk in quieter, sweeter tones. "You can't man-handle her like that, Casey. You have to be sweet and really gentle. Especially before they start walking." Chuck held Lucy to him as he cradled her and began to softly sway from one foot to the other. "Besides, she's too old to be burped. Only when they drink just milk do babies needed immediate burping. At least I think so." Her cries began to go from lengthened wails to quieter, deep breaths. "There we go!" He sung sweetly to her. "You'll get used to Uncle Johnny, won't you? I know you will." Chuck looked up from staring at the child to give Casey a pointed glare. "Uncle Johnny is just a big teddy bear."

Casey curled his lip. He turned away from Chuck and stalked out the door, to his own apartment. Chuck moved Lucy from leaning on his chest to straddling his waist. She clung to his shirt and tugged on him as her watery brown eyes looked up at him in fascination. "Wanna follow Uncle John? I know I do." Chuck lugged her with him as he peered out his front doorway to see Casey locking his apartment, and turn around, beer in hand.

"As far as I'm concerned, Bartowski," Casey plowed into the room and opened the can, "_You_ are babysitting the kid, and _I'm_ babysitting you." Chuck shut the front door as Casey made himself at home; propping his giant feet on the other end of the couch, he turned the television on.

"That's not fair, Casey. Devon left both of us in charge of Lucy. She is your responsibility as much as she is mine. We are each other's backup for the next three days. No getting out of it."

Casey grunted amusedly, and turned the volume up louder on ESPN.

Chuck walked to the far wall next to the entertainment system and placed Lucy into the makeshift play area. Complete with a puffy Winnie the Pooh themed blanket that stretched over four square feet, it was infested with wooden blocks, a fake cell phone, and a whole slew of squishy and/or plush dolls and animals.

She squealed unhappily when put down, and he gave her a little light up ball to play with. Lucy put it against her mouth and began to furiously gum it.

Chuck walked over to Casey, snatched the remote and turned the volume down. "Hey!" Casey sat upright, drink in hand, as he grabbed at Chuck; he in turn sat on Casey's midsection to keep him from rising off of the couch.

"Casey, I am not acc_us_ing… you of… _be_… ing a bad pa_rent_," Chuck dropped the remote, it tumbling under the couch, as he struggled to keep the large spy on the couch. Lucy screamed happily in the corner as they wrestled.

Chuck had one hand pushing Casey's left shoulder into the couch while the other was pushing his right leg off the couch. Casey slammed his drink on the coffee table and wrapped his hand around Chuck's throat. With the leg being pinned by Chuck, Casey brought it up and wrapped it around the slender man's body, flipping them over, Casey pushing both of Chuck's shoulders into the couch cushions, his own legs keeping Chuck's locked under his.

Bringing his forearms down to rest on Chuck's chest, keeping his shoulders pinned, Casey loosely yet threateningly wrapped his hands around Chuck's throat. "What did you call me, Chuck?"

"I- I didn't call you a… I didn't say it like that… I-"

"I am an astounding parent, Bartowski and don't forget it." With every other word Casey pressed a finger tightly into Chuck's neck until he had an entire hand pushing into Chuck's esophagus. He tightened the other hand. "I could skate Dad shaped circles around you any day."

Chuck brought his hands up to lock around Casey's thick wrists. "And I don't doubt it," he shifted his hips causing Casey to grunt and shift his so they wouldn't fall off the couch. "But you can't just hand all the duties to me, while you pop a beer with a 10 month old crawling around. They put everything in their mouths and crawl everywhere. All I'm saying is that if we are put into a two-parent situation, we should utilize that. I know first hand its not fun having only one parent, and then none at all."

Casey's face slackened. He took his hands away from Chuck's throat and brought them to rest on the armrest behind his head. "Right. Forgot."

"No, you're good, now uh…" Chuck wrapped his long legs around Casey's waist. "How did you do that turn over thing?" Chuck twisted his hips with all his might, only managing to push Casey's legs into the back of the couch, then settle back into place.

Casey laughed. "Lots of practice. Lots and lots." He grinned down at the man beneath him.

Chuck smiled, a little confused. He placed his now freed hands on Casey's pecs and pushed up, not budging. "You flip a lot of commies on couches? Why would you need to practice that?"

Casey's smile went from an amused grin to a sly smile. His hands still on the armrest, he ground his hips ever so slightly into the ones below him, lowering his head closer to Chuck's. Chuck's eyes went wide and he began to stammer. "Let's just say I wasn't fighting for my life when I finally mastered that move, hmm?"

Chuck wet his lips, Casey's eyes catching the movement, and impulsively flexed his hips back. "Uh, uhm."

"Yeah?" Casey lightly brushed his forehead against Chuck's.

"Are you watching the baby? I haven't… haven't put up the baby proof fences yet."

Casey swore and leaped off of Chuck. He turned in a circle and found a small plush monkey behind the couch. He picked it up and squashed it in his fist. "I'll check down the hall and in the bedrooms. You do the bathroom and the kitchen!" Chuck watched as Casey stomped down the hallway.

"She didn't leave a scent trail, you bloodhound." Chuck rolled off of the couch and began crawling on his hands and knees, calling out for Lucy in a silly voice. "Loocie! luCY!" He quickly knee walked into the dining area and looked under the table. Not there. He made his way to the kitchen. Casey had already put zip ties on the cabinets, so she wasn't in there. He turned towards the hallway and crawled menacingly toward the bathroom. Before he got there he saw her red hair poke out of the bathroom door and turn towards him. Her face lit up and she began to breathe heavily through her nose in excitement, huffing as she tore away from Chuck.

She turned around and watched him. He lifted up his arms and began to knee walk towards her. "Rawr!" He said. Her diaper swishing, she crawled quickly down the carpeted hallway, squealing as Chuck kept 'rawr'ing behind her. Lucy trucked in front of him until she saw Casey plant a hand on the end doorframe. She screamed in joy and turned around to get away from him, only to find Chuck right behind her. She screamed again and crawl-shuffled back to Casey who stepped forward and grabbed her around the middle again. He hefted her into the air and she tried to swat his face.

"Uh." He looked down to where Chuck sat on the floor staring at him. "What are you looking at me for?"

"Play with her, you sack of meat!"

"You're pushing it, Bartowski." He grit. Casey looked down at Lucy, who was starting to squirm uncomfortably in his grip. "Uh. Stop, that." Chuck pursed his lips, unimpressed.

"Are these the dad shaped circles you were talking about?" Chuck stood and leaned on the wall, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Shut up." Lucy kicked her feet and whined a bit. Casey's eyes bugged again in panic.

"Don't… don't freak out like that." Chuck stepped forward and placed the toddler on the floor. She sat down and stared up at the two of them. "Why do you think people always talk in a baby voice around them? A soothing tone will keep the baby calm, whereas an increased heartbeat or angry voice will upset them. Now get on your knees."

Casey squinted at Chuck. "What?"

Chuck cleared his throat. "I, uh. I mean get on the floor… like I was before. You're going to play with this baby before I die. And you shall do it right." Getting on the floor, Chuck tugged on Casey's pant leg until he joined him. Lucy stared at them and began to crawl up Casey's being. He leaned back, without touching her.

"You aren't going to break her. Grab her and lay her on her back. Then blow on her tummy. Do it quick and not too rough."

Casey smirked. "That how you like it, Chuck?"

"Very funny," Chuck said as he hid a blush. "I mean you might give her carpet burn if you move her to roughly against the floor. Just…" He mimicked the actions with his hands. "Give her a raspberry on her stomach. Blow on her, so your mouth makes the little fart noises."

Lucy had lifted the agent's shirt and started playing peek-a-boo, lifting it over and pulling it against her face repeatedly. Casey gave him a look that clearly asked 'the hell'?

"Like… like this," Chuck said. He leaned over and blew a raspberry against Casey's shoulder. "One of those."

Casey growled.

When Lucy next peeked her head out from under Casey's shirt he quickly- but still awkwardly- grabbed her and laid her down. He lifted her purple butterfly shirt and blew a raspberry on her soft tummy. She squealed with delight and slapped the top of his head. "Ahhh! Ahhh, ahh!" She hit his face playfully when he put his mouth against her neck and gummed her. She giggled and rolled onto her tummy, crawling away from the two men.

"There!" Chuck slapped his hand on Casey's shoulder. "Dad circles are looking good, Johnny my boy!" Casey looked at the hand on his shoulder and growled menacingly.

"Casey?" Chuck called the next day. "Casey we talked about this! You can't leave the horror channel on!" Looking back in the living room, making sure Lucy was sleeping on her blanket on the floor, Chuck shook his head and walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. As soon as he opened the door, a large bottle of orange juice toppled out. Chuck lunged forward to grab it, keeping the lidless drink from spilling onto the floor, but not from spilling it all over himself.

"Aw, man." He mumbled. "Morgan…" He screwed the lid back on and put the OJ back into the fridge, stripping his ruined t shirt off Chuck walked over to the sink. Turning the handle of the faucet, he stuck the shirt under to catch the water that didn't come out. Shaking both the hot and the cold levers, Chuck slumped his shoulders.

Wringing the garment into the sink, Chuck wandered down the hall to the bathroom. The door was shut and he could hear a low monotonous sound coming from the other side of the door. "Casey? Everything alright in there?" Chuck tested the handle to find it unlocked; he walked in and found Casey to be in the shower, singing. Chuck's face turned red as the realization that the heated steam in the glass shower was all that blocked a wet naked spy from his view dawned on him.

"Hey, Casey?" Chuck called as the singing stopped and the water squeaked off. "Sorry to bother to burst in, but I spilled orange juice all over myself and the sink in the kitchen has stopped working. I just came in to wash up. Please pretend I'm not here."

As Chuck kept himself from looking at the shower in the mirror's reflection, he heard Casey quietly begin to start singing to himself again. A deep throaty Sinatra song, echoed out of the still steamed up shower. Chuck took out a soft, fluffy towel and wet half of it in the sink. One end of the towel was wet so he could clean off the sticky juice that had soaked through onto his chest; the other end was dry so he could dry himself off.

As Chuck washed his hands clean and began to clean off the orange juice, he listened to Casey rumble. He closed his eyes and smiled a little. He heard the shower door slide open, and the singing got louder. Chuck swayed slightly, rubbing the soft towel into his chest. He hummed along with Casey's soothing voice.

As he weaved in front of the sink, eyes closed, Chuck didn't notice a freshly showered and toweled Casey come up behind him.

Casey dropped his singing down to a sultry hum into Chuck ear, as he wrapped one arm around Chuck's middle and brought the other up to run over Chuck's chest, splaying his fingers through the small hairs found there.

"Hmmm, hmm, hmm. Thanks for letting me use your shower, Chuck." Casey hummed as he placed his hand over Chuck's stilled one and began to clean the OJ off of him with strong, slow strokes.

"Is, uh… is that, hem," Chuck cleared his throat, "is that Frank Sinatra?"

Pressing his hips against Chuck's backside, forcing him against the countertop, Casey stretched the towel off to finish cleaning off Chuck's chest as he lowered his nose to nuzzle at his neck. "Dean Martin."

"Ah. That's very…" Chuck clutched the countertop. "Very nice man."

"Uh-huh." Casey pecked Chuck's neck with short and quick little kisses all along the area where his shoulder met his neck. "Nice indeed." Casey chuckled and hummed another note. "And tall, and sweet, smart, an idiot sometimes, but funny, and entertaining, talented," with each adjective, Casey placed another kiss on Chuck. The younger man hesitantly tilted his head back as Casey nibbled underneath his ear. He moaned slightly.

"Casey." Chuck turned his head towards Casey and plunked his head against his neck and breathed deeply, weighing his options.

"Yes, Chuck?" Casey grinned as he felt Chuck turn around snuggle against his still wet chest.

"Lucy… Lucy needs to be fed when she wakes up…" Chuck hesitantly placed a kiss against the underside of Casey's jaw, soon beginning to outline the chiseled bone with his lips.

"So she's sleeping?" Casey ran his hands up Chuck's back, pressing them chest to chest, and pressed his hips into Chuck's pushing him into and up onto the countertop. Casey finally matched their mouths together. Going in deep, not starting out for anything gentle, but still keeping it sweet. Chuck brought his hands up to Casey's head and kneaded his fingers into his short brown hair. Casey's own digits twirling around Chuck's curls.

Tearing his head away, Chuck looked up at Casey from his seated permission. "Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, she's still sleeping."

"Hmm," Casey hummed, "that's real good for you Chuck." Casey grabbed Chuck's hips and pulled them flush against his own, legs wrapping around to lock at the ankles behind his back, Casey fingered the towel slung low around his hips. "Really good, huh?'

"Huh." Chuck grinned goofily as Casey pulled away from another kiss, taking the towel off. "Won't… won't there be anything good for you? From, uh. From her nap?"

Casey laughed as he placed sloppy, sweet kisses down Chuck's chest. As his knees thunked against the tile, Casey undid the button of Chuck's jeans. "I don't know how much I'll benefit, if I'm putting all my concentration on how you'll benefit," Chuck's heels slammed back against the cabinets, "from the nap."


	2. One With Nature

"What is this for, again?" Chuck huffed behind his handler. Casey had woken him up before dawn could even think about cracking, shoved a pack on his back, and dragged him into the woods.

"Don't you listen, Bartowski?" Chuck watched as Casey stopped walking and turned around, making him skid before nearly slamming into that brick wall of a man. "Survival training."

Chuck groaned.

"Quit whining," Casey snapped. "It's just basics today, so you probably won't break anything vital." Lowering his voice, Chuck watched as Casey curled his lip at him, "But with you, I never know."

"I heard that!" Chuck attempted to cross his arms, but the large hiking pack on his pack restricted his shoulders from moving too much. He grunted and tried again to no avail, he settled on putting his hand on his hips and glaring at Casey. Casey glared back. Averting his eyes, Chuck continued, "I just don't understand why you've dragged me into the woods this early."

Casey grunted and smirked, "Would you have preferred being lost in the woods at night instead of morning?"

"No." Chuck looked back up the hill at his handler, panicked at that key word, "Wait, what do you mean 'lost'? You aren't leaving me out here by myself, are you?" Chuck's voice had gone up an octave at the end of the sentence at Casey's notion. "You wouldn't do that! Can't do that, Casey!"

"Stop your whining!" Casey sauntered down the slight incline of the hill they stood on and grabbed Chuck by the shoulders hauling him up to where he stood before. "We'll start with the simple stuff today, work onto harder things tomorrow and so on." Casey let go of Chuck. He heard a large _thunk _behind him and guessed Casey had taken his pack off and dropped it on the ground.

Chuck turned around and looked for a pulley system or torture devices leaning on the giant trees. But all he found was Casey popping his wrists and cracking his knuckles one by one.

The agent waved his hand at Chuck, "Let's go princess, take off the pack and loosen up your joints. Start off with stretches."

Chuck quickly whipped his pack off and started rolling his neck and stretching his shoulders- he'd do anything to get that thing off his back. After a few moments, Chuck began to feel a little insecure doing physical things alongside Casey. The other man was so much more experienced at these sorts of things, yeah, Chuck had gone through P.E. in middle and high school, but he had never gotten into it like Casey obviously had. As Chuck started rolling his wrists and ankles to get them loosened up, he watched as Casey began to twist his abdomen to pop his back, then plant his feet, square his shoulders and stretch his arms behind his back as far as he could.

Chuck frowned and tried to copy him. He straightened up and interlocked his fingers behind his back and jutted his chest out, hoping to stretch something. He let go when he felt something pop, catching a rather amused grunt from Casey's direction.

"How long are we going to be out here?" He didn't want to sound whiny, but it came out that way. "How much stretching do we really need to do, Casey?"

"We'll be out here for 8 or 9 hours, so I'd say stretch all the muscles you can name." Casey grinned impishly, or on him it was more like a wolfish smile- the smile right before eating Little Red Ridinghood.

"9 hours!" A few resting birds flew away at his shout. "But I can't name any muscles!"

"Than you're in for a pretty rough day, champ." Casey began to stretch his legs with lunges. He sighed as Chuck attempted to crack his knuckles. "Just… Come over here, and copy what I do."

Chuck didn't smile as he walked over. If he smiled, it'd just make him look even more unsure of himself. He stood on Casey's right side and they silently loosened up the muscles in their calves and thighs. As Chuck turned around to do the same exercise to his other leg, he felt an awful burn explode in his groin- right where his left leg came up and made his hip.

"Ahh!" Chuck brought his hands down to clutch at his side as he slowly knelt down. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!"

"What the hell'd you do now, Bartowski?" Casey growled and whirled down on him. His large hand clamped down on the back of Chuck's neck, hairs standing on end at the touch.

"Gah! It feels like I broke a muscle!" Chuck shut his eyes and curled up on the ground, but he landed on his left side, causing the muscle to spasm more. "Ahhh!" His leg shot out and connected with Casey's shin. Casey grunted and reached down to grab Chuck, who had rolled to his right side so he could start to rub at his left hip.

"Would you hold still, you idiot?" Casey crouched next to Chuck and grabbed the smaller man's leg and covered his slender fingers with his own larger ones. He began to knead Chuck's hip. "You probably didn't even pull it. When you use muscles you never typically use, they tend to pop a bit or get sore the next day."

Chuck's face relaxed as Casey rubbed out the small spasms rocketing through his lower left side. He slipped his hand out from underneath Casey's so only his fingers were working the muscle.

"Uh-huh", Chuck groaned as the pain soon left him. "That's real interesting Casey." His foot twitched and brushed against the agent's ankle.

Casey frowned as the man on the ground clearly wasn't paying attention to him, and therefore didn't react to the shot he took at him. "Did you hear what I said, Chuck", he tried again, "I said the reason this occurred was because you probably haven't been using your muscles lately." Chuck felt Casey squeeze his hip gently. That was very true he hadn't been using those hip muscle for anything besides walking and sitting. And running. He was running for his life thanks to this lump of meat nearly every day of the week.

He opened his eyes and blinked up at Casey, his square head blocking out most of the rising sun. "I use'm everyday."

"Nah." Casey dug his fingers into that left hip, and Chuck wrinkled his nose, stretching out the other leg as Casey kneaded the muscle back into its original state. "You aren't using… these", Casey shifted his hand down Chuck's leg and into his inner thigh, "muscles very often, are ya slugger?"

The sliding motion made Chuck's eyes shoot open and he snatched Casey's wrist. His brain registered the words as his heart suddenly beat staccato. "Alright, NSA badass, why don't you insult me when I'm not in pain? Make me feel a little better about myself." Chuck let go of Casey's wrist and the meaty fingers pushed off his legs, letting him stand. As he brushed off the back of his pants, Chuck wouldn't meet Casey's eyes, "Irony not intended."

"Heh," Casey grunted. He walked in front of Chuck and led him over to a big tree. Well, not big by Californian standards- actually quite small in comparison to the giant redwoods and sequoias. Chuck trudged his feet as he fiddled with his sore muscle and made his way up to Casey, who in turn grabbed his forearm and hauled him up beside him. "Alright, Boy Scout," Casey swatted Chuck's back, and pushed him toward the tree, fingers sliding down and off of the Nerd Herder. "Climb on up."

Chuck's hearing had been turned off at all this touching from Casey. Chuck knew the man was more hands on in his work, never verbally expressing himself. The tips of his ears burned, and he could feel his neck turning red. "You want me to what?"

"Climb the tree, Bartowski." Casey grinned at him and planted his hand on the tree's bark and hauled himself up into the V'd trunk of the tree. Chuck watched as his huge handler straddled the tree like a horse. An image of Casey in fringed chaps and a cowboy hat made him smile and blush. "Being a spy isn't always shootouts in abandoned wear houses and car chases down the highway or even getting the girl." Casey raised his leg and planted one foot on either trunk and raised himself up grabbing the tree until he looked like a crouching Greek-god turned gargoyle. "Being a spy sometimes means running away from the bad guy in different settings and hiding your ass before he kills you."

"I've seen you run away from pinkos and Frenchies on docks, ware houses, down the street, in a train, and during consulate dinners. But it's much harder to get to safety when you're in plain sight." Casey stood up, feet still planted on the split tree's trunks, "especially when you're wearing that."

Chuck looked down at his clothes; black Chucks, blue jeans and a yellow Star Trek shirt. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing? It's the red shirts that always die, Casey."

"That shirt is practically neon out here, numbnuts. A bat wouldn't even have to use sonar to see you in that."

Chuck picked at his shirt. "What's your point, Major?"

"My point is," Casey looked up at the branches above his head and began to find one sturdy enough to allow him to swing his weight up. "After you learn how to properly climb a tree, I'm going to hunt you in these woods and you need to not be as easy to find as you are now."

"What?" Chuck squeaked as he watched Casey grab a branch with one hand and wrapped his other arm around the thicker of the two trunks, hauling himself onto another limb.

"Open your ears, Chuck! Start climbing!" With a crack of his neck, Chuck planted his right foot on the bottom of the tree and slapped down where the trunk split in two, pulling himself up.

Twisting and turning, Chuck leaned against the left trunk, his feet resting nearly 90 degrees up against the right one, right underneath Casey's perch. "Alright, bad-ass, what now? Does the hunt begin?" Crossing his arms behind his head, Chuck admired the blue sky expanding behind the leaves of the tree and Casey's large, attractive, obnoxious head.

"Not until you learn to climb this damn tree, Bartowski. Need to obtain high ground and stay out of sight." Casey wrapped those meaty fingers around Chuck's ankle and shoved him out of the tree. "And you'll keep climbing this tree until you beat me to the top. Go!"


	3. Nature's Other Side

Casey wasn't scared of much. There were only a few things that sent shivers down his spine after he had joined the Marines. His first few hits as a sniper gave him the cold sweats at night. Accidental kills during a torturing sessions always tended to turn his stomach for the rest of the day. But as he watched Chuck stop to take a picture of the inside of the cave, the hairs on the back of his neck and arms shot straight up when he heard the walls rumble.

Chuck gasped and leaped forward as loosened rocks began to fall at the cave's entrance. The ground shook slightly as Casey ran forward to drag him to the wall of the cave, out of the way of falling debris.

"Get down, idiot!" Casey planted a hand on Chuck's pack and shoved him into the hard rock of the cave, making him cover his curly head. Casey covered the back of his head with his hands as he hunkered down and saw from behind his eyelids the light beginning to disappear.

"Casey!" Chuck shouted as the rumbles began to stop. "It's an earthquake!"

Casey rolled his eyes and growled lowly, not heard over the quake.

Their surroundings soon began to stop shaking, and the boys turned around and sat on the cave floor. Casey took his pack off and set it in between his spread legs. Taking out a flashlight, he turned it on and shined it around. In the dim yellow beam he saw dust and rock particles still falling from the ceiling around them. Turning it towards Chuck, Casey saw him shaking more than the cave had.

"What's wrong with you, Bartowski? Haven't ever been in an earthquake? You live in damn California!" Putting the flashlight in between his teeth, Casey began to rifle through his survival pack.

"I've never been in a cave during one!" Chuck's voice was small as he scooted forward to take his backpack off. He leaned his head back onto the wall as he hugged the pack to his chest, exhaling heavily. Casey shook his head, rattling the flashlight in his mouth, as he listened to Chuck's breathing, bringing out a thick coil of rope and a small pickaxe. Chuck lolled his head to look at his handler. "Are we gonna die in here?"

"No, Chuck, we're not going to die." Taking his flashlight in hand he waved the beam in Chuck's eyes. "Just think of this as extra survival training, eh?" Chuck groaned, making Casey smile. In another circumstance, with a different pitch, that noise might've made him smile even more. Like those noises the asset had been making earlier under the tree? Made Casey mighty pleased with himself for thinking of this… _bonding_ day.

Casey sat up and took his belt off.

Chuck scrambled away from him. "Casey what are you doing?" He whispered hysterically.

The agent laughed, as he squeezed the flashlight into a side belt loop. "Relax, princess. I'm not planning on beating you with it. Or tying your hands up behind that scrawny back of yours."

"Hey! I'm not that scrawny." Chuck stood up slowly and started rifling through his backpack. "Why'd you put your flashlight in your pants? I- I mean. Hang it from your pants."

"Need my hands free," Casey grunted out as he stood and angled his hip towards Chuck's survival pack so the younger man could see what he's doing. He grunted in reply when Chuck mumbled a thank you. "Get your own light, and any sort of sharp tool you can find in there. Pretty sure I packed you a collapsible shovel."

"Collapsible?"

"Yeah," Casey grunted and grabbed the head of his flashlight to point to the back of the cave to see how far it went. The light didn't reach vary far to the back of the cave. "Look for the head of a shovel, the handle is folded against the back of it." Casey did his best not to roll his eyes as Chuck took everything- including the shovel- out of his pack to look for it.

"Chuck! It's right there!" Casey swiveled his flashlight holding hip back to Chuck's backpack.

"Oh, thanks." Chuck grabbed the shovel and his own flashlight, getting up to stand in front of Casey. "So, uh, why can't we just call for help?"

Casey grunted and turned back to the clogged entrance of the cave, setting down his pickaxe to start unraveling the rope. "Didn't pack any, numbnuts. You can be tracked by phone, even in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere like these woods." Wrapping the rope around his middle a few times, Casey turned back to Chuck and threw his the heavy rope, watching as it thunked against the young man's chest making his stumble from the weight.

"Good grief, Casey! How did you walk all day with this on your back?" Chuck wriggled to comfortably hold his flashlight and support the bundle.

"Look in your pack and tie your rope to mine. Then thread that through your belt, Bartowski. I want you to go to the back of the cave and see if there is any alternate route or exit. I'm going to start on this pile up." Casey bent and grabbed his pickaxe, "Why don't you give me the shovel, too?"

Chuck kept still.

"Bartowski," Casey sighed. "C'mon, get a move on! We need to work together here."

"Why can't you go back there? And why are you tying yourself to me? I'm not in preschool!" Chuck unwound his rope and tied it to Casey's, threading his arm through the center of the coil and hefted it over his shoulder.

"Yes, Chuck, you are." Casey walked over to him in the dim light, and bent to retrieve the shovel himself. He grabbed the rope and yanked it down from Chuck's shoulder and began to unravel the lot of it. "Now, thread the other end through your belt, leave the rest on the ground making sure it doesn't tangle, and go find where this cave ends." As the rope thudded to the ground, Casey grabbed Chuck's waist and began to thread the rope tightly around the man's waist.

"Quit it!" Chuck lurched away, jostling the big man. "I can do it myself!"

"Then hustle! I'm a professional, Chuck! I've done this sort of thing before, and I need you to get your head in the game!

Chuck huffed and turned to go spelunking, muttering low, but Casey still caught the, "Professional… look at G.I. John."

Casey allowed himself inwardly to smile at that. As he began to find footholds and places to fit himself into the rocks piled up, he could hear the echoing of Chuck talking to himself. Moving smaller rocks and debris near the top of the cave, Casey caught the ringing of a song his asset must have been singing to himself to calm down.

To keep time with his hands, Casey even began to whisper a few cadences he had stuck in his head. As he hummed, he began to chip at the top rocks and pushed the loose ones towards the outside of the cave. What he had learned from experience was if you pulled on the rocks or moved them the wrong way, they would continue to move inward, blocking up the cave more. He didn't know how many more rocks were ready to fall when he got the entrance clear.

As a few pink cracks began to show through, he felt a tugging around his torso. Looking back, Casey could barely make out the neon orange rope coming to an end, as it stretched from up high where he was, into the darkness of the back of the cave. The tugging became harder and more insistent, nearly pulling Casey, despite all his weight in comparison to Chuck.

Leaning against the rubble, and steading his feet, Casey raised a hand to his mouth and shouted, "Quit pulling, Bartowski!" His deep voice rang throughout the tunnel, bouncing off the hard walls. Despite the shout, the tugging of the rope around the agent did not stop. Carefully, Casey grabbed the rope and yanked it his way, to send a silent message for Chuck to stop dicking around. A few moments later, his end was answered with a smaller tug, insistent.

A bad feeling was what made Casey jump down as he began to lose balance. A few small boulders followed him down the blockage. Slipping slightly on a few small rocks underfoot, Casey pick up the rope and followed it into the dark cave.

"Chuck!" He called. His hands moved swiftly, grabbing and pulling the thick rope off the ground, tugging himself forward, and having it trail behind him. "Chuck!" Casey kept shouting every so often, not ever thinking the cave could go this deep. At some point, Casey realized he had begun to descend, and later at a rather steep angle too, only pulling himself deeper into the cave, with nothing tethering him.

"Chuck!" Casey tried again. "Where the hell are you?"

A faint, "John" rang in Casey's ears.

_Shit. _

As Casey felt the knot where the two ropes connected, he shouted again, "Chuck!"

"John!" Came a muffled groan.

Casey kept tugging on the rope. "You alright?"

Silence. After a few beats, a rushed, "Stop pulling on the rope!" came from the darkness, drowned out by Casey's squeaking sneakers on the wet rock underfoot.

Casey slowly dropped the rope, losing his handhold to guide him in the dark. He worked his flashlight out from his belt loop, and shone it where Chuck's voice was coming from. "Where are you?"

Hunching slightly to keep his balance on the steep ground, Casey crept forward slowly, running his hand along the cold wall. A low groan called out to him.

"Oww."

"Chuck…" Casey kept his voice steady as his right foot connected with a chink in the wall and slid him forward quickly. "Can you throw your flashlight in the air? So I can find you?"

"N-no!" The echo of Chuck's voice did nothing to hide the shakiness in it. "It broke when I fell! You won't be a… able to see it!"

"Why can't I pull on the rope, Chuck?" Calm. Casey kept his voice calm and soothing; the last thing he needed in an unknown hysterical situation was an overly-panicked asset.

"I, uh… I hooked it around a… big… boulder so I wouldn't roll down. Roll down this hill. And when you pull on it, it burns my hands." Chuck's teeth grit as he shouted.

"Why the he… how'd you end up on the ground?"

"I… My foot caught, and I twisted my ankle. Might have broken it. Casey, it hurts."

Casey thought. If he kept pulling on the rope, he could cut through the skin of Chuck's hands if he pulled too much or too hard. But if Chuck still had it wrapped around him, Casey could drag him up hill. He just needed to know how much farther Chuck was down the incline.

"Chuck, I'm going to stop right here and shine my light where I think you are, okay? I'm gonna need you to grab your flashlight and throw it where you think I am." Casey stopped walking and felt around for the rope, picking it up. "Can you do that for me?"

"I'll slip!"

"No you won't! I have the rope in my hand. If you start rolling that way, I'll yank you this way. Now grab that light, Chuck."

Casey aimed his light where he heard Chuck's shuffling. "Alright, Casey!" Chuck called, "here goes!" Concentrating on what he thought was downhill, Casey did not see the flashlight coming at him from a diagonal angle down wind.

It hit him on the bridge of his nose, making him drop his own flashlight with an, "Oh, fuck!" He pinched his nose as his eyes traitorously watered from the impact. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. "Bartowski, you idiot, I told you to throw it in the air, not towards me!" Bending down to pick up his light- still intact- Casey swore a few more times.

"Casey, I really don't think now is the time to be yelling at me."

Swearing soundlessly again, Casey began to lead himself via rope to Chuck with more ease. When the yellow beam hit a large rock, Casey dropped the rope. "I'm right here, gimmie a second and I'll get you right out of this, Chuck." He heard a grunt in reply and smiled in spite of himself. Casey was just beginning to calm himself when he noticed that the neon green rope was wound around the rock twice, not simply caught on it.

"Chuck! Really? You wouldn't have rolled away, unless you cut the rope! You wrapped it around the rock, and you're still attached to it!" Casey chided Chuck as he unwound the rope from around the large outcrop.

"I was afraid if I rolled away, you'd leave me at the bottom of this hill," was the quiet reply.

Casey's motions stilled as he threw the rope to his side and hefted Chuck from around the rock. As the asset owwed and whined, Casey gruffly said, "Semper Fi, Bartowski. Now hop up." Casey crouched and grabbed Chuck's legs as he leaped up onto his back. Taking the knife from his pocket, Casey cut the ropes that tied the two men together, letting the hundreds of feet of neon green rope slide slowly down along the wet rock of the cave.

"Ah! Casey that hurts!" Chuck said as he swatted at Casey's hands wrapping his ankle with an Ace bandage.

"If you kept it still, it wouldn't hurt as much!" Gritting his teeth in a smile, Casey pinned the bandage down and ruffled through their packs. Pulling out respective blankets and protein bars, Casey spread the overnight essentials out in front of him. "Now, since you're useless, I'll set up camp and then we just sleep and wait."

"Wait for what?"

"Not reporting back after this, Walker must be out of her mind not knowing where we are. She'll track us down by your watch by the time we wake up." He spread the blankets out, side by side. "I'm not an idiot." Casey rolled the sleeping bags out and got to work unzipping them, and then re-zipping them together to form one giant quilt. "Roll over onto the blankets, eat your granola and then shut up long enough for me to sleep."

Chuck saluted him and bum-scooched across the ground to lay down on the bed Casey had made. They ate their bars in silence, kicked off their muddy shoes and curled up under the covers. Casey's eyelids were just beginning to get heavy when Chuck opened his mouth.

"Thanks. Thanks for saving me, I mean. Don't know what would have happened if you hadn't tied us together like that." Casey could feel Chuck's back pressing slightly harder against his own as the younger man spoke.

"S'm job, Chuck." He mumbled. "Please go to sleep."

Casey felt Chuck's back slide against his own as the other man laughed a little. "Please? You're in a good mood for someone trapped in a cave."

"Could be worse." Casey inhaled deeply before speaking again. "I got good company."

Silence. Chuck shifted, turning around to face Casey, making him breathe in sharply again. "What's so good about your company?"

Casey wet his lips. "I could have had someone that was a lot less nice. Or one that was unattractive. My company could have been someone that actually tolerated my jokes, making it a lot less fun to make fun of them. My company could have been a commie. Or someone who actually doesn't thank me for saving them."

Casey felt his back being traced with a lazy finger. "People don't thank you for saving them?"

Shifting his hips to be more comfortable, Casey felt his heart rate pick up as Chuck continued to run fingers over his back. "Not always, no."

"Mm. Bad people." Chuck's hands dipped under Casey's t-shirt to trace more precisely.

"Uh-huh." The agent cleared his throat. "Very. Bad." Casey began to fall asleep to the gentle swirls being marked into his skin. "Bad manners."

"Casey?"

"Yeah, Chuck?"

"Shut up."

Casey smiled and turned around to lay on his other side, facing brown eyes. "Okay, Chuck." Putting his large hand on Chuck's shoulder, Casey pushed him until Chuck's back was to Casey's front.

"Watch my ankle," he warned as Casey looped his arm over Chuck's middle and pulled him back against his own being.

"I gotcha, Chuck." Casey kissed the top of Chuck's curly head as he whispered, "No more falling."

"No more falling," Chuck agreed as the two fell asleep and waited for Sarah to come dig them out in the morning.


	4. Saving Paper

Chuck groaned in frustration. He loved living with Morgan, he really, really did; but some of his habits couldn't be kicked as quickly as others.

He looked around the bathroom helplessly. His feet were bare; and no way was he using his shirt.

"Morgan!" He called. "Morgan, you forgot to replace the toilet paper!" Chuck waited for Morgan to hear him, maybe burst in with a few apologies and then leave, leaving the door ajar like the last time this happened.

Then he remembered: Morgan was out with his mom and Big Mike for the entire day. Shoot. Chuck felt his pants pocket for his phone. Yes! It was there; miracles really do happen.

He dialed Ellie's number listening to the phone ring until it reached her messages. He tried again and she still didn't pick up. He tried Awesome next with the same results. Chuck leaned his head back in thought and hit it against the wall.

"Ow," he moaned. Could he call Sarah? No, they weren't that close anymore. Never were really. Chuck didn't know how he'd feel if Sarah walked in on him in such a low moment. Would Casey mind? He was probably at home. The NSA agent did have the day off from Buy More and spying…

With a defeated sigh Chuck leaned his head back up and dialed Casey's number, silently praying the agent wasn't doing anything important. After two rings of the phone, he picked up.

"Bartowski. What is it?"

Oh good, he's not in a bad mood. "Hey! Hey, there… Big Guy! Is this a bad time?" Chuck started off sweetly.

"Did you flash," came the gruff reply.

"No…"

"Than yeah, it is a bad time, Chuck. Go bother Morgan."

Chuck could tell he was about to snap his phone closed so he hurried, "Wait! I need your help!" Chuck looked at his watch, not checking the time, but remembering there was a tracking device planted inside of it. Chuck turned his head way from the phone and took a deep sniff of the bathroom. Nothing. Maybe this wouldn't be so embarrassing.

"With what?"

Chuck sighed deeply. "Uhm…"

Casey cleared his throat into the phone. "_Today_, Chuck!"

_Get it over with!_ He screamed in his head. "Morgan left the house and I'm stuck in the bathroom without toilet paper!" He rushed everything out in one breath, waving his hands as he talked, glad nobody was present as the waving caused his belt buckle to slap loudly against the porcelain toilet. "I need you to go into my kitchen, reach into the supply cupboard and grab me a roll."

Casey was silent on the other end of the phone.

"Casey? C'mon, pal. I really need you hear." Chuck lowered his head as he breathed into the phone. "Please?"

The line went dead. Chuck wished he could snap his phone shut, he was so upset. He really thought that Casey would do this for him. Weren't they friends? At least more than acquaintances now that he wasn't ruining every other mission.

Chuck placed his phone on the floor and boldly grabbed the waist of his jeans, hanging onto them as he slipped off of the seat and onto the floor. He spread his legs slightly so that his jeans would stay locked around his thighs as he crawled to the door on his knees and elbows.

Chuck's inner monologue ran as he curled his lip at a weird spot on the floor. _I mean really, John. After all we've been through. You've saved me countless times! I've returned the favour a few times might I add! I drove you to the hotel to save Ilsa when you were slammed so hard you couldn't walk straight. Cut you out of ropes, gotten your back in fistfights!_ His ranting soon slipped into the open as he reached up and opened the bathroom door, making his way to the kitchen. "The least you could've done was gotten me toilet paper when I ran out! I may not have dug a foxhole with you while we shot down enemy planes and thrown mustard gas at the Cubans, but I thought I could count on you for little things too, budd-"

"The hell are you doing, Bartowski?"

Chuck looked up from his place on the floor, and saw Casey crushing a roll of toilet paper. He was standing at the entrance of the kitchen, supply cabinet behind him open slightly underneath the sink. "Well, what are _you_ doing? Leaving the cabinet open like that? Getting sloppy are we, Colonel?"

"Why the hell are you on the floor?" Casey's faced stayed unmoved, not glancing back to see if he was right.

"I didn't think you were coming, so I hit last resorts." Chuck shrugged his shoulders, making his legs sway and bump that metal belt buckle against a sensitive spot. "Aah!" He moaned and slumped his head against the floor as he winced and moved the belt buckle away.

He felt the toilet paper land against his curly head. "Jesus, Bartowski! You can't operate without a damn manual, can you?"

Chuck rolled his head and watched as Casey turned behind him and closed the cabinet door soundlessly. He turned back around, gave Chuck a pitied sneer, a grunt, and flew out the door.

Pity? Chuck hoped he'd read that one wrong. Grabbing the roll, he made his way carefully- so as not to move that buckle- back to the bathroom, did what had to be done, and went to his room. Once there, he glanced through the blinds, seeing Casey doing the exact same thing. The agent's blinds snapped shut as he swiftly left his own window watching.

Chuck steeled his nerves as he walked up behind Casey in Buy More a few days later. He reached out and tapped the man's large shoulder. Chuck took a step back as Casey whirled around, moving the microwave on his shoulder to under his arm, getting prepared to fight. Casey's shoulder took on another form of tensing as he realized it wasn't someone picking a fight, but Chuck wanting to talk.

"What?" He snapped.

Chuck frowned. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I just, uh. Wanted to say thanks… for the other day, and…"

"Don't mention it." Casey growled. Chuck's head snapped up. Was that him being friendly? A smile started tugging at his lips before Casey added a harsh, "Ever. Again. Got it?"

Chuck lost his smile, "Yeah. Capisce, I got it." He turned his head so as not to look at Casey, walking past him, when he felt the man pinch his sleeve and tug him back, the two falling into a slow step across the sale's floor.

"Cubans weren't in WWI, moron," the agent rumbled next to Chuck's ear as he turned down an aisle.

"What?"

"Mustard gas wasn't allowed after WWI, idiot. And last time I checked I'm not old enough to have even been thought of during either World War." Casey had his head turned away from Chuck, shifting other microwaves around. The stance didn't keep Chuck from hearing the light tone in Casey's voice.

He smiled. "Alright, buddy. Whatever you say." Casey stayed put, but looked over his shoulder. Chuck grinned wider and lazily shoved Casey's arm, walking down the appliance aisle.

_Maybe that look wasn't one of pity,_ Chuck thought to himself. _Maybe it was a "I've been there, buddy. I know how it feels" look. Yeah, that was it! _Chuck was just about to turn around to get one last look at Casey, when he was shoved roughly into a display case at the end of the aisle, tumbling forward and scraping the back of his hand against the corner of the metal shelf. DVDs skidded across the floor, display falling over in cardboard slow-motion effects.

Chuck sucked air through his teeth as he looked at the back of his hand. It stung a bit, and the skin was roughed up, but no blood. He looked up to see Casey crossing his arms and looking mighty pleased with himself.

"John! Chuck! Clean that mess up!" Big Mike pushed his way towards them, yanking his pants up as he swayed. "Don't need any horseplay in my barn!"

"Yessir." Casey said and walked over to pick up the furthest-off videos. Chuck grumbled as he righted the case, taking videos off the floor and placing them back into their correct slots. When Casey came back over, they knelt on the floor side by side, shoving each other with varying degrees of roughness as they stacked in congenial silence, a small smile on their respective lips.


	5. Dear Chuck,

_Chuck,_

_ I'm sorry for having to say goodbye with a letter. I don't know when you will wake up, and I'm sorry that it's my fault you won't wake up for another day. I should have been two feet away instead of twenty. I know you will wake up soon, but I can't wait until you do. After reporting back to General Beckman, she has ordered me to be pulled from this assignment._

_I just want you to know, that it hasn't felt like an assignment to me in a very long time. I stopped thinking about you as an asset for awhile, so long I can't remember why I ever hated you in the first place. But I guess you know that already. I'm not good with verbal communication- you know that too. So I will take the time now to write down everything I never said to you._

_I don't mind that you snore. It helps me remember where I am when I wake up after a bad night._

_I can't tell the difference between whether you've brushed your hair or not._

_The heart boxers you got me? Honestly one of the best presents I have ever gotten._

_You're my best friend, Bartowski. Don't forget it._

_I'll miss you. Hell, I miss you now, not jabbering away at whatever shiny object caught your eye. You're just lying so still in this hospital. It doesn't even look like your chest is moving. I feel awful for never saying that when you were awake. _

_I miss you a lot, numbnuts. When you're on a tech run, or when I'm at the loading dock and you're in the cage and I only get glimpses of you when I run back and forth to restock the shelves. It sounds stupid, but I do._

_I never say those three little words in a row, and I wish I had taken the time to say them to you. I miss you! Those words! Not any other!_

_Well._

_Damn pen won't let me erase! I want you to know, Chuck, that any three words you wanted to hear from me should have been said._

_Now that I think about it, is this the opposite of a 'dear John' letter? Ha! Hope that made you smile! I always looked for that grin of yours, Bartowski. Warmed my insides well past done._

_You wont be able to contact me, Chuck. Beckman wouldn't say where I'm going, and I've had to delete my personal number from your phone. I'm sorry. But I need you to forget about me, now. Forget John Casey. Forget all the lady feelings, and the handholding. Wipe all the memories from your mind. I wouldn't be able to live with myself with another thought of someone trying to extract information from you about me. When you forget about me… just remember that Charles Irving Bartowski will never be forgotten by me. You will never, __ever__ leave my mind. Or my heart. _

_Goodbye._

_ Love,_

_ John _


	6. Pass Assist

_Swish._

_Swish._

_Bink! Buum. Buum. Buum. Buumbuumbuumbuum._

Chuck quickly ran after the ball as it bounced away, quickening his pace as the ground curved downward a bit, sending the ball down the road.

He scooped up the ball and saw Casey's Vic flying down the street towards him. Resting the ball on his hip so he could regulate his breathing, Chuck saw Sarah and Casey leap out of the car and walk over swiftly.

He waved to them tiredly. "Hey, guys! Something wrong?"

"Yeah, something's wrong!" Casey barked out to him, resting his hands on the front of his belt. Chuck always wondered why he did that. He wasn't pulling his pants up. Was it just an alternative to putting your hands on your hips? More manly? Chuck slowly moved his hand to rest on his short's waistband, before catching the slipping basketball.

"The whole neighborhood's power is out," Sarah explained, eyebrows crinkled and worried. "Our cameras went offline, and your watch is in your room! Chuck, what were you thinking, leaving it behind?"

Chuck furrowed his own brow. He didn't realize the power went out. "I- Last time I was wearing a watch and playing outside, it got busted. I left you a note! I'm fine! See?" Chuck turned in a circle, one arm out as he spun, the other clutching the ball to himself. "Completely fine! I just got bored, and wanted some air. See if I still got the mojo!"

He walked backwards from then, turned around and dribbled the ball. He got into a shooting position, raised his arms up, saw a blur run out of the corner of his eye. He ignored it, and shot. Oooh, and what a good one! He knew it was going in no matter what, just by that beautiful arch. As the orange ball neared the net, Casey jumped slightly and batted the ball away, deflecting the gorgeous three-point about to be made.

Chuck's entire form fell. Sarah laughed loudly behind him. He turned around slowly and saw her gafaw-ing with her hand over her mouth, shoulders and belly shaking, He narrowed his eyes at her, arms crossing over his chest. Casey shot out a barking laugh behind him, slapping his large hand on his back.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up!" Chuck grumbled and turned away from his handlers to grab his ball, only to find Casey lazily bouncing it. "It would have gone in if Casey hadn't-"

"Destroyed your chances?" Casey smirked and shot the ball with ease. It sailed across the small playground court and bounced off the rim. It ricocheted and smashed into the hood of Casey's Vic, pinging off with a loud _clang_.

It was Chuck's turn to laugh loudly. He looked at Casey's fuming face, "Getting rusty, are we, Casey?" Sarah laughed loudly, going to sit on the front of the car.

"Walker!" Casey snapped at her. "Off the car! You'll dirty her!"

"I think the only one harming this car is you, Casey!" She smiled.

Chuck jogged slowly over to the rolling ball and dribbled it back to the little half-court. He smiled at Casey, who in turn scowled at him. Running over to the basket, Chuck jumped and lay-upped the ball. Catching the ball as it swished soundlessly through the net, he turned around and passed the ball as roughly as he could to Casey. He caught it effortlessly and twirled it between his fingers.

"You challenging me, Bartowski?"

"Are you ready to lose?" Chuck kept eye contact with Casey all the while keeping track of the ball's movement in the corner of his eye. The two men stayed silent, the NSA agent tossed the ball back and forth quickly between his hands. Sarah ran forward and snatched the ball from Casey, spinning on her heel and chucking it to Chuck. He caught it and dribbled. "Knockout or 21?"

"21," Sarah breathed. "One of you is bound to break a nose if you play Knockout."

Casey grinned evilly and nodded his head, "Knockout, Bartowski. You're on."

"Fine," Chuck agreed. He smiled and with as much force as he could, passed the ball right to the center of Casey's chest. "You start." He watched Casey catch the ball with an actual huff before heading over to his stuff near the playground fence. He brought up an extra ball.

He always brought two in case someone else needed one, or the first got lost. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He hadn't played basketball since… junior year. That's right! He had made the school basketball team junior year! He'd played four games before an unfortunate jump shot resorted to a badly twisted ankle and a broken nose. He guessed Sarah was right, he thought as he headed back over to the handlers.

Sarah rolled her eyes as the two boys – men – respectively cracked knuckles and rolled necks and shoulders getting ready to throw down. She walked back over to the Vic and turned he engine off, sitting on the front of the car getting ready for the spectacle.

"Alright, Big Guy," Chuck sniffed and readjusted his roaming gym shorts, "lets get this started. Let's change the rules, play to five, huh?"

"Yeah, well," Casey said. "It'll be over as soon as it starts." He stood in front of Chuck, raised a bit on his toes and shot the ball. It bounced off the rim and zoomed over to the green chain link fence.

"Ha!" Chuck got in position and shot while Casey raced after his ball. Chuck's ball swished through the net and he lunged to catch it as it bounced on the pavement. He grabbed it with one hand and raced back to the line, just as Casey was setting up and jumping to shoot. As the agent's ball sailed towards the basket, Chuck dropped his and jumped into the air, swatting it away.

Casey's ball drummed sadly on the asphalt towards the left side of the small court. Chuck bent down and grabbed his ball putting a skip in his step going to the line as Casey shot poisonous eyes his way.

"Didn't know we were playing dirty, kid." He grumbled.

"_We_ don't have to," Chuck answered, dribbling a bit before shooting and missing by about a foot. He ran after it. Casey stood in place and waited for Chuck to run back.

Closer.

Closer.

Just a bit more. There.

Casey hurled his ball at Chuck's knees. It hit his right knee cap, making him tumble forward, the nerd's own basketball flying towards Casey, slowly coming to bump against his feet. He bent and picked it up, seeing Chuck roll over on the ground and get to his feet, blindly pawing at Casey's old basketball. His _new_ basketball flew to meet the basket. The two met and then separated, as the orange ball fell through the net.

Chuck stood up angrily and glared at Casey. The agent snorted at him. "1 to 1, champ." Chuck turned his back on Casey and shot the ball. It sank through and he ran to catch it, kicking his old ball off the court.

"1 _on_ 1, John Cena!" Chuck challenged. "Let's cut the middle school crap."

"Cena?" Casey folded his arms. "I could beat that little punk with one hand!"

"And yet you can't beat me with two in a little pickup game?" Chuck teased. He stuck out his bottom lip and tilted his head at Casey.

"Oh my God!" Sarah yelled from her perch on the Vic. "Will you two just get a room already? Or lower the testosterone around here? Little kids come here!"

"Yeah, Chuck! Let's skip the foreplay!" Casey ran at him, making him shrink away. Casey snatched the ball from Chuck's hands and crouched, dribbling the ball between his legs.

"Hey!" Chuck swatted at him, Casey twirling away.

"You said 1 on 1! We're tied," Casey brought the ball back and got into position. "Four more points and I win, slugger."

Chuck narrowed his eyes as he stood in front of Casey and they 'checked' the ball between them. Casey grabbed the ball and skirted around Chuck, dodging to the left side.

The next twenty minutes were filled with trick shots both Chuck and Casey thought they were two old to perform. Fakes and passes to a teammate that wasn't there. Sweat poured off their bodies as they jumped and blocked and shot and shoved each other around the block of concrete; Sarah sat cross-legged on the top of Casey's car, playing around on her phone.

Chuck grabbed the ball as it slipped through Casey's sweating palms. He was about seven feet away from the basket; too far away to make a lay-up or even attempt a dunk. Chuck doubled over, clutching the ball to his middle as Casey bent over him, blocking him in and keeping him from moving away. "Give up, Bartowski," Casey huffed into his ear. "I'm up by two," Casey hesitated and then grabbed the hems of Chuck's shirt and shorts, balling the material into his meaty fist. He clutched the younger man to him, snaking his other arm around his middle. He fed his fingers through Chuck's and curled the ball towards him.

"Never!" Chuck hissed.

Casey laughed loudly and spun the ball on his finger, leveling his arms out and leaning his head forward so the ball traveled from one hand to the other. As he showed off, Chuck stole the precious orb away and brought the ball back to the line.

It all happened in slow motion as he crouched, leveled, and shot the ball. His eyes traveled with the ball's slow path, Casey in his peripheral vision; hands on his hips as he breathed out, watching Chuck shoot. It circled the rim of the basket, spinning around and around as it gyrated through and out of the net.

Sarah coughed. Casey growled. The ball bounced slowly until it rolled and came to a stop against the playground fence, as though it knew everything was over. Chuck grinned at Casey. "Down by 1. 5 to 4,_ slugger_."

"Don't rub it in, Bartowski. I wasn't dressed for the occasion." Casey gestured down to his heavy blue jeans and drenched t-shirt.

"Don't make excuses, John," Sarah chided. "Chuck just came out on top against you. Let him have this victory."

"Yeah, Casey! Let me have this victory!"

Casey grimaced and walked dejectedly over to the basketball. Chuck didn't think the man had ever walked so sadly. "Yeah, yeah! Chuck came out on top. Big deal." He picked up the ball and looked down at it in his hands.

"Don't pout, Big Guy. If it makes you feel better I think you did really good! This is the only time I've ever topped you!" Chuck said, walking over to him and swatting his upper arm.

Casey looked up with a small smile. "Yeah." He nodded. "You aren't that great at a lot of stuff. Thanks, Chuck."

Chuck frowned. "Uh-huh." Casey and Sarah made their way back to the Vic while Chuck walked over to the other fence and picked up the second ball. He tossed the ball to Sarah, who threw it in the backseat. He didn't stay miffed for long. Chuck was nearly ecstatic- beating Casey in a physical event. Being the champ. Number 1. MVP. Chuck sighed loudly. "This was fun guys!"

Casey grunted. Sarah smiled at him. "Are you happy now?"

"Yeah I'm happy!" Chuck sang. "I topped Casey! I can't wait to top him again!"

Casey halted getting into his precious car. Sarah's eyes flew up.

"What did I do?" Chuck asked, puppy dog eyes growing. He watched Sarah shake her head slowly and swing into the passenger seat. He looked over at Casey, his square jaw hanging slightly open, only air passing through.

Sarah got out of the car. "I'm walking back. Bye you guys." She walked down the street, a hand flying over her shoulder in a parting wave.

Chuck's face turned quizzical. "Did I say so- uhh!" He gasped. "Oh! Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh! Sorry, I uh. I didn't mean to- to say that I-" Chuck blushed furiously. He stammered an apology as Casey began to laugh. "What's so funny, Casey?"

"Just, uh," Casey gasped a little as he faked wiping a tear away, winded from the laughing and the exercise. "Just the thought that I'd let you top." Casey got in the car and leaned over to close the passenger side door. He closed his own and started the car. When the engine roared, he backed up until his window was parallel with Chuck's shocked face. "You'd only be _champ_ if I was tied down. I think we both know how… dominant I can be on the _court_, Chuck. Well this court." He reached up to his sun visor and pulled his shades down, pushing them up to the bridge of his nose slowly. "We'll just have to wait and see your game on the other one, huh?"


	7. A Proper Send Off

"I'm. Going. To. Miss. You. So. Much." With every word, or syllable to say the least, Chuck kissed another inch of Casey's annoyed face. Being the same height was one of the many things Chuck appreciated about this man… among other things.

Chuck ran his hands all over Casey's Kevlar covered chest and fatigue clothed arms. His fingers itched to thread through the newly appointed Colonel's hair, but were prevented due to the large black helmet.

Casey grunted angrily as Chuck fingered the helmet's chinstrap. He took hold of Chuck's upper arms and held him at arm's length. "Didn't we take care of this last night, kid?" Chuck hummed approvingly at the memory and dove for another sloppy kiss.

"You act like you won't miss me!" Chuck grinned against Casey's mouth, until he noticed the older man wasn't kissing back. Chuck stopped his ministrations, and took a step back, folding his arms. "You aren't, are you?"

"What?" Casey's mouth turned down even more. "Of course… Of course I'll miss you," Casey dropped his voice to a whisper. "Chuck. I," he cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders, "don't… I'll miss you, Bartowski!" He slapped Chuck's arm playfully and tried for a grin.

Chuck curled his lip. "Casey, what on Earth is wrong with you? Has my boyfriend been poisoned?" Casey's eyes bulged when Chuck said that. The Nerd Herder pricked up. "That's it! You're ashamed to be dating me!" He turned around and started walking back to the car. "To think it took me sending you off to a whole nuther hemisphere to realize you're just in it for the sex! God, I'm stupid!" He began to beat himself up, as he angrily yanked the red and white door open.

A meaty hand clamped down on Chuck's arm as he stuck a foot in the company car. "Damnit, Chuck," Casey said under his breath. "It's not that… it's…" The agent wet his lips.

"Then what is it, John?" Chuck stepped out of the car and folded his arms across his chest, propping an elbow atop the ajar door. He wiggled his head to get a curl out of his face. "If you aren't ashamed to have me send you off, then what is it? I haven't met any of your Marine friends. Do they know your gay? Is that it?"

"Will you shut up for one second?" Casey yelled. Chuck flinched just a bit at the sudden change in noise level. Casey sighed and hesitantly twiddled one of Chuck's fingers, letting their fingers play. "It's… I don't… I'm not good with communication." He cleared his throat. "Verbally. Yeah, my team knows. I just… don't know the entire situation of what I'm leading them in to. I don't know how long I'll be gone, kid. When I'll get back." His voice turned to a rasped whisper, "If I'll be back."

"Casey," Chuck's face softened at the emotional display. He plied Casey's fist apart and intertwined their fingers, before looping his arms around the back of the agent's neck. He tickled the little hairs that stuck out of the bottom of his safety helmet. Pulling the man's face closer, he kissed him softly. "You'll be fine. You're Superman! You can do anything, babe! I know it." Chuck rested his forehead on Casey's helmet. Chuck smiled sheepishly. "Besides, if I'd thought you wouldn't be coming back, I would've given you a better go last night!"

Casey chuckled and kissed Chuck. It was sweet and lazy, their lips making small smacking noises as they parted and reconnected slowly; Chuck took the helmet off to gain better access. He dropped it into the driver's seat behind him, hands cupping the back of Casey's skull, holding him close for one last minute.

Their breathing not unnatural, but more labored than before, they broke apart. Chuck smiled, "I know you won't be back for Ellie and Awesome's wedding, but maybe when you get we can have our own," he ran his hands down the front of the Kevlar, "honeymoon of sorts."

Casey hummed as he unnoticeably gyrated against Chuck. He pecked the geek's neck. "What would be in the schedule of this vacation?"

Their lips met again. Chuck locked his hands behind Casey's neck again. "I was thinking about something along the lines of what we did last night." Casey exhaled into Chuck's jaw, grunting lowly in approval. "But maybe over the course of a few days. Maybe even a whole week."

Without warning, Casey grunted forcibly and nudged Chuck's hips back into the car with his own pelvis. Chuck laughed, his head tilting back. He brought his hands back to himself after running them over Casey's being one last time.

Casey kissed the top of Chuck's head, smiling into his scalp. His hand ran down and squeezed Chuck's butt. Chuck sensed the hesitation before hearing Casey utter a sentence filled with such adoration, he finally started to choke up. "Take care, nerd."

As he began walking away, Chuck sniffed and swatted Casey's own ass. "I'll be waiting, Colonel." Casey huffed in amusement, walking backwards and eventually turning around to step onto the giant copter. The blades began to cut the air, stirring up Chuck's curly brown hair and he waved to the departing Marine transport. Chuck let a few tears leak out silently as he smiled sadly and continued waving, knowing full well that Casey wasn't looking out at him through the fleeting window.


	8. About Last Night

Casey growled as he stalked Chuck back to the break room. The little nerd flying down the hall to get away from him. Casey sped up and jammed his foot into the door as Chuck fumbled with the lock, closing the door.

"L-l-l-l-look, buddy," Chuck held his hands up and back away from the door as Casey filled it. "if this is about the party last night, we can both agree that I was very drunk and wasn't in my right mind."

"That so?" Casey growled lowly. To anyone who hadn't heard his full collection, that one may have come off as deadly, but in actuality was filed under "horny".

"Y-yeah." Chuck bumped into a table in his escape. "I really didn't mean it. I would never- I mean, don't get me wrong, your' e very… I just… You're not really my…"

"Your what, Chuck? Type?" Casey advanced quickly and backed Chuck up against the counter, slamming a hand next to his asset's head.

"Well…" Chuck started. "It's not that you aren't my type. It's just that… you are very…"

"Intimidating?" Casey leaned his face towards Chuck, keeping the blood lust/fuck lust grimace on.

"You are that," Chuck wet his lips. Casey promised himself right there that the next time that happened, he'd catch it like a fish. "Bu- but it's more along the lines of it was a terrible mistake and I'll never get drunk near you again and I don't want you to kill me."

Chuck squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away, tensing and getting ready for the blow. It didn't come. He opened his eyes slowly as Casey laughed softly, his nose about four inches away.

"I don't intend to kill you, Chuck. That ship sailed a long time ago." Chuck exhaled. "I have other plans for _you_, Bartowski."

Chuck cleared his throat as he turned his head to look straight at Casey. He widened his eyes before narrowing them slightly. Casey began to breath evenly through slightly parted lips. He raised his left arm to rest on the wall on the other side of Chuck's head.

"Like what?"

"Well," Casey tilted his head. "What if I didn't mind? What if I thought that that display couldn't possibly be what you think qualifies as a kiss? What happens if I need to show you the proper way?"

Chuck's face turned more trustworthy hearing these words. He smiled a bit, goofy teeth shining through his lips. "I don't know, Casey," he said, wetting his lips once again, "what happens if y-mmpf!"

Casey bent his elbows as he placed his mouth against Chuck's, moving their lips into a lock after a few moments. Chuck's hands came to settle on Casey's shoulders as he was lifted onto the counter.

Long legs wrapped around Casey's midsection as they kissed. Their lips stayed stacked as they tilted heads, rubbing noses. Long fingers began to knead into broad shoulders as a tongue slipped through and tested the waters.

Chuck moaned as Casey's joined his, exploring the new landscape. The two men began to breathe heavily through their smashing noses as their hands and jaws became restless.

Casey dug his hands into Chuck's hips, keeping him from squirming off of the flat surface. Chuck bit Casey's lip in frustration, and got squeezed in a hardening place in return. He tore away from Casey, head back as he jerked his hips forward into Casey's palm.

Casey bit Chuck's chin lightly, rubbing their five-o'clock stubble together as he pulled away. "If you had done it like that last night-sober- you wouldn't've been walking this morning." Casey leered. Chuck jerked his hips forward again, his face beginning to go from fog-covered to lazy and appreciative. Casey squeezed chuck's thigh, running his hand down the young man's leg, before backing away from his adversary.

He kept eye contact with Chuck as his hand drifted down quickly to fix his pants. He winked and turned to walk out of the break room. Everyone else on the sales floor could only wonder what made Casey tolerable for the rest of the day.

Chuck could only guess.


End file.
